Anyway
by AVMabs
Summary: Caleb and Lily deal with the loss of one of their own. Gang!AU.


Lily drew her lighter, holding it as far away from her as possible as she lit her cigarette. She took it to her mouth and breathed a lungful of smoke. She pulled it away, wheezing. Two weeks of trying to perfect this and she still didn't have it right. She was bringing it back to her lips for another try when a new pair of footsteps began crunching on the gravel that lined outside of the church hall. She flinched and glared at the intruder. Cal. She took another drag of the cigarette. The puppeteer holding her muscles taut relaxed his grip on the strings when she managed it without wheezing – and she was able to revel in the picture of surprise in front of her.

"You," Cal started. He stopped and gestured with one hand at Lily's cigarette. She took another drag from it with less success than the last time. She choked and placed the back of her hand on her mouth, trying to suppress a gag. When she looked up again, Cal was grinning. "Thought so."

Lily rolled her eyes. "I suppose you want a drag," she said, and held the cigarette out to him. He shook his head and Lily reeled, surprised – something that was not helped by Caleb pulling his filthy jumper over his head, advertising a bare chest and a knotted scar on his abdomen – and Lily couldn't help but notice how the frayed sleeves, which he had curled inwards, came loose and revealed the extent of the damage. A see-through plaster was attached to his shoulder. The corners were peeling up and had become coated in a layer of dirt and soot and it didn't reflect light, even though March's sun shone down to create a frigid layer of white over everything it touched. Even so, Caleb looked pleased. Lily shook her head. "Any excuse to take your shirt off."

He snorted. "It's better than what you're doing," he said. "I never thought I'd see the great and sanitary Lily Chao smoking a cigarette." He gave a little mock gasp and then let his face fall into a cheeky smile – one that didn't reveal the missing canine lost in a ridiculous fight over some smuggled marijuana. Lily's face fell at the memory. She wished he would reveal _something_ – whether his missing canine or his missing spleen or his feelings over his missing brother. She faltered, shot straight in the chest by the arrow of truth the thought had stuck her with.

A gentle touch – too gentle, Lily had always thought, for the roughness and size of the hand – laid on her wrist. She stared straight upwards into Cal's face – his stupid, _concerned_ face and his blue eyes. She tore it away.

"Don't do that," she demanded. Cal removed his hand from her wrist and stuffed it into his pocket.

The corners of his mouth stretched sideways as though he was making his first attempt at a smile for months – perhaps in affirmation to himself that he had followed the command. He nodded at her. "Alright," he said. He flicked all ten of his fingers upwards and stretched them out, as if he was proving to her that even if he stretched them, he wasn't touching her.

Lily deflated, just to allow herself to further inflate. "No," she said. "Not that – just, just that thing you do."

Cal frowned and glanced back at her, tilting his head to the right and staring at her with blue eyes that _clearly_ hadn't changed colour since he was a baby as though she was the only thing in the churchyard.

As though set alight, Lily gestured up at his face. "Yes," she said. " _That_." She petered off, struggling in vain as the powers that be dripped water onto her flames which – as it turned out – were not as large as she had initially thought. Steam rushed from her. "You- You do that _thing_ , like everyone's just supposed to love you if you act like a puppy." She glared down at the floor. "Ethan used to do the same thing."

"Is that why you're wearing contacts?" said Cal, gesturing to her face.

"Just _shut up_." Tiny spark – and then – "how are you not upset?"

Tiny shoulder twitch. Big admission. He flopped onto a bench and held his fingers out to Lily. "Give me a drag," he said.

She glanced down at the cigarette and then back up at Cal. Her hand didn't move. "I thought you quit." She gestured to his patch.

He slapped his hand to his shoulder and ripped the patch off, leaving a square of grime to frame the red mark on his shoulder. He stuck his hand out. "Not anymore."

She sighed and twisted it so that the unlit side was facing Cal and – with more care than she deemed absolutely necessary – slotted it into the space between his two first fingers. He took a long drag, shoulders heaving upwards and then falling down and forwards as though he was taking a bow for going so long without smoking. He flicked the cigarette upwards so it was targeted between her eyes. "Thanks," he muttered.

She huffed and sat down next to him. They sat in silence, watching as the cigarette burned down to a stub. Lily stared up at Cal. His eyes were dry and his nose was clean, but there was something pinched and taut about his face, like he'd sealed his skin in place so that nothing could escape. She flicked her mirror open and applied another layer of concealer to the space under her eyes. Cal glanced to the right. "You know, that's not fooling any of us."

Lily scoffed and shook her head. "Shut up."

Cal ghosted his hand over the crook of his elbow. "Apparently Robyn's chosen to do an apprenticeship next year."

"You'd have known that months ago if you'd kept in touch."

Cal shrugged again. "Stuff came up."

Lily gave a little mirthless laugh. "It's come up now, hasn't it?"

Cal didn't respond; he was staring off to the side slightly. "I want a drink."

"There's water inside."

Cal gave her a gentle shove. "You know I mean booze."

Lily balled her hands into fists, feeling something awful building up inside of her. She took a deep breath and then scowled at Cal. "You tried so hard to stop."

He snorted, and Lily – for just a second – felt as though she should strike him. She shoved the idea down, because she was Lily and Lily didn't hurt people – not physically. "Ethan would be furious," Cal mused.

Once again, something terrible built up inside of Lily. Waves churned under her ribcage and she paused as backwash destroyed the shore of calm that she had so carefully erected. " _Don't_ talk about what he'd want."

Cal stopped. He shut his mouth, taken aback, and flickered his head towards her like a startled fawn. Lily collapsed forwards, stopped from hitting the ground by her arms, which were resting on the knees of her skirt. She created paths through her hair, breathing carefully into the bay of air that had been built by the curvature of her body. Cal raised a hand as though he was going to rest it on her back, but seemed to change his mind and set it down in his lap.

"Are you okay?" he asked, giving her a wary stare as he waited for the response.

She pulled her fingers through the rest of her hair, snarling when her left hand became caught on a tangle. She wrenched it through and then stared up at Cal. "Why are _you_?"

Cal stayed silent, and Lily felt like she might hit him again. Their breath didn't dissipate in the wind. It stayed around them – a film of carbon dioxide created for no reason but to suffocate them. Lily knew that Cal noticed it as well; his breath was growing heavy and his shoulders were heaving, but his face displayed nothing. Minutes went by, and then Cal spoke.

"They want me to write his eulogy." His jaw began to tense, and he brought the remains of the cigarette up to his mouth for another drag without realising it had burnt down to a stub. "Sorry – sorry."

Lily's shoulders relaxed, so that when she turned to face him her body was loose. "Cal…"

He dashed at his face with his wrist. "No, no. I'm fine – some of the guys are working on spraying a mural for him."

Lily made a face. "Vandalism?"

He smiled, this time revealing his teeth – revealing the space at the top of his mouth where his canine should have been. "We're hoping people will lay flowers in front of it, though. Notes and stuff."

Lily touched her fingers to his shoulder, acutely aware of the fact that if it was her, she would jerk away. He relaxed into the touch, calmer for it. "I'll do it," said Lily. "He liked Delphinium."

Again, Cal seemed surprised – startled by the admission. "Think we're making a rebel out of you," he joked. "How do you know he liked Delphinium?"

Lily smiled and leaned back against the bench. "He told me." He had told her, during a stupid walk in the woods when he was 17 – because Ethan had never been on a nature trail before and he wanted to know what he could see when you went on them and every time he saw Delphinium, he pointed at it and told Lily he liked it. He didn't even know its name.

Cal sighed. "The last two months before he died I didn't talk to him," he said, "and his flatmates want me to write his eulogy."

"Would you rather someone else got it wrong?"

Cal shook his head and brought a hand up to his hairline. "No – I just…" he trailed off, and when he spoke again his voice was small and boyish. "Do you think Ethan would be angry if I did?"

Lily shrugged. "It's not like he knows either way."

Cal shuffled in his space, somehow uncomfortable with the thought that if Ethan _did_ know, he'd probably have given one of tiny laughs and cocked his head. "He could," said Cal. There was a brief silence, and a part of him was kicking himself. "No, of course he doesn't," he said. "Sorry, Lily."

They fell into silence again, but this time – at least – it seemed like their breath was filtering away from their faces, allowing them the freedom of inhalation. Cal fidgeted, picking at the square of dirt on his shoulder, and Lily sat up straight as a board, watching the rotation of faceless people in the hall as they patted each other on the shoulder, or hugged each other or cried. She shoved a hand into her pockets and was surprised – as she had been so often in the past two weeks – by the presence of her lighter and box of Camels. She pulled them out of her pocket and let them sit in the palm of her hand until Cal noticed them.

"You can have them – but I'm not going to be a proxy for you every time you want cigarettes."

Cal stared down at them, blinking at them without saying anything. He extended his fingers out to them before making a fist and clenching it. "We'll burn them later – and some of his old stuff, and mine."

Wavering – just slightly – he pulled his jumper back over his head and made his way back into the church hall.


End file.
